


Turncoat

by LowerEastSide



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Elder Wand (Harry Potter), M/M, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Pre-Slash, Room of Requirement, Scene Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 19:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16667086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LowerEastSide/pseuds/LowerEastSide
Summary: In the heat of battle, a reckoning.





	Turncoat

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for Drarropoly (@gameofdrarry on tumblr)  
> Board Position (or card image): Time Turner  
> Prompt: Choose a scene from the books and rewrite it differently  
> Word Count: 999 words or less.  
> Team: Hippogriff
> 
> Scene: directly after the Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement. Rewrite: The battle (the scene with Percy and Fred) stays in a further part of the castle rather than picking up immediately, and Harry and Draco have a moment to confront each other.
> 
> This is more Gen than anything, but it's a Drarry game and if I were to write more to this it would end in shippiness, lets be real.
> 
> Thank you Marshview for the speedy beta!!!

When the smoke had cleared and the Horcrux dissolved, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood shell-shocked outside the Room of Requirement. Sounds of the battle echoed below, but to his left, Harry saw Malfoy and Goyle scrambling to their feet. Unarmed or not, they had to be dealt with. Goyle looked ready to bolt, but Malfoy stared at Harry, trembling.

“You saved my life.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Ron said, brushing soot off his clothes. “You’d better get your arse out of here, Malfoy, before we regret it.”

Malfoy’s gaze didn’t waver from Harry. “Why?”

“Why did you tell Crabbe not to kill me?” Harry asked in return.

“I — I can’t — “ Malfoy stammered. “I couldn't. It's awful, watching someone die.” There was a haunted look in Malfoy’s eyes that told Harry of horrors he'd witnessed, horrors beyond Crabbe’s death in the Fiendfyre. He hoped Malfoy hadn't finally been forced to commit murder while Voldemort lived at the Manor; he'd seen how the task in sixth year had been nearly impossible for him, how that alone had broken the other boy. No, Harry doubted that Malfoy was capable. _Draco, Draco. You are not a killer._

"Yes, it is," Harry simply answered. The five of them stood awkwardly in the passageway, unsure of the others’ next move.

"Come _on,_ Harry! " Ron hissed. "We don't have time for these two!" It was true - Malfoy and Goyle were wandless, no danger to anyone, and they were also useless. Still...

Dumbledore thought Malfoy had a chance. He'd been willing to bet his life on it.

_Draco, Draco. You are not a-_

"Draco," Harry called out, Dumbledore's words still in his mind. Malfoy froze in shock. "Is there anything you can tell us? Anything Voldemort has planned?"

"Why would he help _you?_ " Goyle muttered, but Malfoy, taken aback by Harry’s question, seemed to be thinking.

“Maybe.” Goyle made an offended noise, but Malfoy continued. "He's been overprotective of that snake lately."

"Old news," Ron said.

"He can't get any wands to work properly for him?”

"Even older," Hermione chimed in. "Harry, come on!"

"Wait," Harry asked. "Even the Elder Wand?"

"He won't shut up about that. Says he killed Dumbledore, the bloody stick should be obedient."

"But he didn't kill Dumbledore. Snape did." It still made Harry's insides feel rotten to think about it.

"I know, I was there. He made me tell the story a hundred times." Malfoy shuddered. “Does that mean he has to kill Snape, then? He’ll do it, he doesn’t care about any of us.”

Privately, Harry had wondered if that were the case, ever since his talk with Ollivander about wands and masters and murder. The Elder Wand had a bloody history. But Dumbledore hadn’t _killed_ Grindelwald; he’d won the wand in a duel. Perhaps defeat was all that was required.

"He’d only need to disarm him," Hermione said, catching on to what Harry was thinking. “He probably won’t bother with that, though. To Voldemort, defeat means death. Disarming is effective, but not quite final enough.”

Malfoy went white as a sheet.

"Snape didn't disarm Dumbledore, though," Harry stated meaningfully, staring directly at Malfoy.

"How do you know?" he asked faintly.

"I was there, too."

“Oh, Merlin.” Malfoy began to shake. “He’s going to kill me. He _has_ to kill me, he’ll never win unless he does, he needs my… My _wand._ ”

Silence fell over the passageway as everyone turned to Harry, who was still holding the Hawthorn wand he’d taken from Malfoy during their escape from the Manor. Both Ron and Hermione quickly trained their own wands on the two Slytherins, yet Harry kept his arm slack. Goyle tensed, but Malfoy took a step back, hands raised in surrender. “You need it more than I do.”

“Seriously?” Ron complained. “You’re playing turncoat _now?_ ”

“Tell the Dark Lord, Draco!” Goyle insisted. “Potter’s got it now, He won’t kill you!”

Hermione’s _Petrificus Totalus_ was swift. Malfoy watched Goyle topple over beside him, and flinched. She aimed again, this time at Malfoy, but didn’t fire off a spell.

“If we leave you both petrified during the battle, you’ll have no chance,” she warned. “How do we know you won’t go running to Voldemort?

“I won’t tell,” Malfoy pleaded. “You saved my life. Someone has to stop him. Potter, you _have_ to stop him.”

“I don’t care if he knows I have it,” Harry said bluntly. “It’s between me and him, now.”

Harry nudged Goyle with his foot. “Get him clear if you care, then run. You’re good at that.” Malfoy cringed, but didn’t refute him. “If Voldemort figures it out on his own… he doesn’t know I’ve disarmed you, so he’ll come after you. You have to get away.”

“My parents,” Malfoy protested. “Potter, I can’t leave them.”

Harry shrugged helplessly. “If you come up against us again, Malfoy, we won’t give you any quarter.” Malfoy nodded in acknowledgement. There was one more thing Harry was curious about, though, and he might not get another chance to ask.

“Why didn’t you tell Bellatrix it was me? I might not have had the chance to get your wand in the first place, if you’d given us up.”

Malfoy scoffed. “You were all puffy.”

“Come off it, Malfoy. All these years, with Ron and Hermione there? You knew it was me.”

“Like I said,” Malfoy said evenly. “It’s awful to watch someone die.” There was something else there, hidden behind the fear in his eyes, but Harry didn’t have a spare moment to decipher it. Terrible noises came from below, and the floor shook.

“Go on, Potter. I’ll get this lunkhead clear, then try to find my parents and convince them to run. You’d better do your part.” Malfoy hesitated, then thrust out his hand. “Good luck.”

Though he was short on time, the gesture seemed immensely significant. Harry took Malfoy’s hand, ignoring Ron’s indignant snort, and shook it once.

“Good luck.”

**Author's Note:**

> (Hey, let’s pretend screwing the timing up means Fred lives too, you cool with that? I’m cool with that.)
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr!](https://lower-east-side.tumblr.com/)


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